This is an older poem, but updated for the prompt N is for Noise
The Sound of My Garden
This is the sound of my garden,
A haven of peace and of quiet.
Want to relax in a garden?
Come round to my house and just try it.
Pigeons cooing, cows are mooing,
Hedges kept in check with trimmers,
Motorbikes and kiddies’ trikes,
Lawns are finished off with strimmers.
Chainsaw rasping, smokers gasping,
Children bounce on trampoline,
Screaming fools in paddling pools,
Brass band practice on the green.
Birds are squawking, neighbours talking,
Cutting through the atmosphere;
Whines and moans on mobile phones
Ruin summer one more year.
Bleating sheep, alarming beep,
Car doors slamming, front doors too;
In the sky jet airplanes fly
With microlights against the blue.
Mowers mowing, cattle lowing,
Cackling cockerels crow and screech,
Dogs are barking, people parking;
Solitude is out of reach.
Bees and sneezes, leafy breezes,
Burner in hot air balloon,
Hammer thumps and someone trumps,
Banjo player picks a tune,
DIYers, biplane flyers,
Families sharing cheery words,
Cats purr, helicopters whirr;
And always, always, always birds.
This is the sound of my garden,
A haven of peace and of quiet.
Want to relax in a garden?
Come round to my house and just try it.
© Carol Carman 2025
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